


Before the End of Hanukkah

by patchfire



Category: Glee
Genre: Chrismukkah, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-09
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Puck decides that New Directions needs to have a Naughty Secret Santa gift exchange, Kurt merely hopes not to draw his brother’s name. His own gift is much more than he bargained for.</p><p>Written for the Chrismukkah exchange on the LJ Puckurt comm, for lumenbaby!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the End of Hanukkah

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a vague post-3x07 world. There is no return of Sam, but it is implied that the outcome of 3x08 was the same. It is also set in a world where Blaine had the role as originally described: a year older, acting as a mentor of sorts to Kurt, without romantic attraction.

“Is he gone?”

“What?” Finn looks over at Puck, confused, and Kurt sighs, shaking his head.

“Schue, is he gone?”

“What mad scheme have you concocted now, Puck?” Kurt can’t help but ask. Quinn, Rachel, and Tina all exchange glances, rolling their eyes, and Mike looks curious. Artie and Rory are talking about... Kurt’s not even sure.

“NSS time!” Puck grins at all of them. When no one responds, he sighs, shaking his head. “C’mon, guys. Naughty Secret Santa!”

“Naughty?”

“Yeah, you have to get a _naughty_ gift for your recipient!” Puck looks far too enthused by the idea, and Kurt has a feeling that there is a definite scheme when Puck picks up a cardboard box and shakes it. He already had names prepared. Oh, help them all.

“Just like regular Secret Santa otherwise?” Artie asks. He rolls forward. “I’m in!”

Kurt crosses his fingers briefly before following Artie. The earlier he draws, the better chance he has of getting Tina, who is the only one in the entire room he feels comfortable buying a naughty gift for. Or he could get Finn, and no one would call foul if he got his brother an un-naughty gift. He takes one last deep inhale, plucks out a slip of paper, and then exhales in relief to in fact see Tina’s name peering up at him. Thank god.

The rest of them apparently decide it’s easier to join in than to fight Puck on this one, much like Kurt himself did, and Finn goes last, not even looking in the box as he pulls out a strip of paper. Then Puck shifts the box to his other hand and reaches in, pulling out the final name. “And there’s mine!” Puck smirks at all of them. “Two weeks. We’ll exchange them at the happy Hudson-Hummel house.”

“We will?” Finn looks confused.

“Yeah, your mom and Kurt’s dad are out of town, like, all the time now.” Puck shrugs. “Perfect place. Kurt, just tell us which night they’re gone in two weeks or so.”

Kurt sighs. “If I must.”

“You must,” Puck confirms, nodding very solemnly. “It’s your sacred duty to the glee club, dude.”

“Oh, well in that case.” Kurt shakes his head with a snort of laughter. “In that case, I’d better go get started on my shopping.”

“That’s the spirit!” Puck grins. “All of you should take a lesson from Kurt. If you don’t want to drive, two weeks is plenty of time to order from the reputable brown-paper-wrapping sites.”

“Thank you for that bit of personal knowledge,” Quinn says distastefully, “but I think some of us are more creative than that.”

Artie whistles. “I suddenly hope Quinn has my name.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow and smiles, almost a smirk. “Many people do.”

“Oooh, good one,” Tina smiles appreciatively.

 

Kurt does, in fact, purchase a ‘naughty’ gift for Tina: chocolate body paint and a marked-down red and black thong and push-up bra set. Not that Kurt thinks Tina necessarily needs the assistance with her chest, but that was the way the set came, and Kurt already felt strange enough buying women’s lingerie.

Scratch that–he felt horribly awkward and he was pretty sure Tina was the _only_ woman he knew that he could even manage to buy it for. Any other girl and he would have been out of luck, even online. At least doing it in person, an hour away from Lima, he could pay cash, and no one would be the wiser.

He’d taken the liberty of wearing one of his dad’s hats and one of Finn’s beloved puffy vests over a flannel shirt left over from his Mellencamp disaster, and so even the security tapes wouldn’t betray him.

It is far easier to figure out when his dad and Carole will be out of town again and relay the information to Puck, whose eyes crinkle at the edges when he grins. “Sweet! Thanks, Kurt. You bought something yet?”

“Yes. I went in disguise and drove an hour away.”

Puck chuckles. “Why the James Bond routine?”

“Please, this was definitely more low-budget than James Bond. I have one of the girls. I wanted to make sure there was no record of my purchase.”

Kurt would almost swear that Puck looks disappointed for a moment when he states that he has one of the girls, but then his face is back in the same open-book expression within seconds, and Kurt decides that he probably was imagining things. “Awesome, you’re at least doing the naughty part right!” Puck claps him on the shoulder. “Would you believe that Irish kid tried to get out of it?” He shakes his head. “No balls on that one.”

“Not everyone has impressive cojones like my own,” Kurt agrees, deadpan, and Puck just snorts.

“Good one. Later.”

 

Puck goes so far as to issue them identical blue and silver bags at the last glee club meeting before the party. The Troubletones are probably rejoining them soon, or that’s the gossip anyway, so it’s probably good that the exchange is the next day, or Puck might make them all redraw. Kurt doesn’t think his luck would be so good a second time; he’d end up drawing Quinn or Artie or, worse, Santana.

Kurt has no idea what kind of naughty gift one would buy for a lesbian.

His dad and Carole leave while he and Finn are still at school, and Kurt presses Finn into service as soon as they get home. “Take all your stuff up to your room, Finn. It’s a naughty secret Santa exchange, not a Finn Hudson museum exhibit.”

Puck shows up thirty minutes ahead of everyone else with a huge box in his hands and a mohawked Santa hat on his head. “What’s in the box, dude?” Finn asks.

“Food! And a menorah, ‘cause you atheists and agnostics only have Christian shit. That’s kind of weird, you know that.”

“We celebrate a secularized Christmas. I don’t think you can celebrate a secularized Hanukkah,” Kurt points out, taking a plate of some strange looking crescent rolls out of the box. “What are these?”

“Rugelach. There’s Christmas tree cookies and gingerbread men in there, too. Rachel got offended when I asked her to bring rugelach, so you get my jamless chocolate version instead.”

“Why’d she get offended?” Finn looks puzzled. “Is it not Jewish enough? Too Jewish?”

“She started ranting about men expecting the women to cook.” Puck shrugs. “Oh well, chocolate ones are totally better.”

Kurt has to admit that he got confused somewhere around “my jamless chocolate version,” since that seems to imply that Puck made the food himself. “There’s no pot in these, right?” he asks dubiously.

Puck laughs. “Nah, I wouldn’t waste that much pot on everyone. I may have reserved some special baked goods for my recipient, however.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Relax, it’s just a little to help... relax.”

“That clears things right up.”

“You bought your secret Santa person pot?”

“No, dude, I made him or her some pot cupcakes. Amongst other things.”

“We had to get more than one gift?”

“No, Finn,” Kurt interrupts. “Just what you thought was a good gift.”

“Oh, okay.” Finn pauses. “I had _Artie_. This was difficult.”

“What’d you get him?”

“Mood music.”

Kurt laughs and Puck snorts. “Seriously? That’s awesome, dude.”

“Well, they just don’t make fancy underwear for guys. I checked.”

“You...checked?” Kurt shakes his head. “Nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

“It was traumatizing,” Finn agrees.

Before long, the nine of them are sitting near the fireplace in Kurt’s living room, the identical bags all grouped around the menorah, a log that Puck swears represents the pagan tradition of winter solstice, and the far branches of the large pine tree that’s taking over most of the prime real estate already. Kurt hopes he knows what’s in a few of those boxes, but he has a horrible feeling that none of it is what he expects. Especially not the boxes from Finn.

“That hat is an atrocity,” Quinn comments to Puck. “What is it, even?”

“It’s a mohawk Santa hat!” Puck exclaims, sounding injured. “It’s the best hat for December.”

“Are you, like, Jewish Santa?” Artie asks, sounding puzzled.

“Totally,” Puck agrees with a nod.

“Fascinating as this is, I’ve been banished from my own kitchen until after we open gifts, so...let’s do that,” Kurt concludes.

“Great plan! We’re going in uh, random modified reverse alphabetical order!” Puck pulls a piece of paper from his pocket triumphantly. “Which means Artie opens his gift first!”

“That’s right.” Artie grins. “Which one of those identical bags is mine?” There’s a few minutes of looking before a bag makes its way to Artie and he reaches inside, pulling out his prize triumphantly. “ _Erotic Moods_. Nothing like a little music to get the ladies in the mood.” Artie grins. “And who do I have to thank for this?”

“Uh-uh.” Puck interrupts. “Givers only have to reveal themselves if they choose to do so.”

“Well, still, thank you, thank you.” Artie does a little bow.

“Next up, Tina!”

“Ooh!” Tina springs up and looks at the tags herself, grinning happily when she finds her bag and reclaims her seat. “Oooh.” She holds up the body paint first. “This looks good. I just need an appropriate canvas...” She looks around the room and winks at Mike, then grins at the rest of them. “And there’s more!” She shows off the lingerie unabashedly. “Thank you, naughty Santa!”

Puck cuts his eyes over to Kurt and raises an eyebrow, and Kurt nods once, sharply, without looking directly at Puck. Puck grins for some unknown reason, then announces that it’s Rory’s turn. Tina turns out to have drawn Rory’s name, and she’s more than happy to claim credit for the penis-shaped pasta that turns Rory a fire-engine hue.

“Okay, Finn!” Puck hands him a bag, and Finn does a decent imitation of a fire engine himself when the bag reveals ‘Naughty Bubbles Bubble Bath.’

“Not in my bathroom,” Kurt insists. “Take your naughty bubbles to Rachel’s house.”

“Kurt!”

“I’m serious, not in my bathroom! I don’t want naughty bubbles-smell mixing with my fragrances.”

“But what you said–about–” Finn splutters for a moment longer before tossing up his hands.

“Speaking of your girlfriend, Rachel, it’s your turn.”

“I must say, I am not sure I want naughty bubbles in my bathtub, either, but.” Rachel trails off as she receives her own bag. “Oh, how nice! It’s shimmering body powder!” She beams and looks around the room. “Thank you! I know this must have been one of the other girls.”

“It was,” Quinn concedes, smiling slightly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do!” Rachel smiles brightly. “Who’s next, Noah?”

“Quinn’s up.” He passes the bag across the cluster, and Quinn reveals a fairly ordinary bottle of massage oil, which Kurt can’t help but think looks like something from Target.

“Rory?” he guesses, and the younger boy nods sheepishly.

“Dude.” Puck shakes his head sadly. “At least you have a few more years to develop some balls.” Puck picks up the bag next to him. “I’m next!”

“Thought you might like these!” Artie calls, and Kurt breathes a sigh of relief that he wasn’t the recipient for Artie or Finn either one. Puck opens his bag to display a set of leopard print-lined handcuffs, which he twirls on one finger while leering.

“Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get to use these before the end of Hanukkah!”

There’s a couple of whistles–Artie and Mike–and two noises of disgust–Quinn and Rachel–before Puck makes a show out of randomly picking up one of the remaining bags before giving it to Mike.

“Oof. This is heavy,” Mike mock-complains, then pulls out a book. He flips through a few pages with a strange look on his face. “Well, it’s naughty, but it reads like one of my dad’s technical manuals,” he admits.

“Sorry!” Rachel squeaks. “I just couldn’t get one of the more explicit ones!”

“Rachel!” Puck scolds her. “Couldn’t you have at least sprung for one with photographs instead of...” He leans over and laughs. “Stick figure drawings?”

“Sorry!” Rachel repeats.

“I suppose that means that the final bag is mine,” Kurt sighs. “Please hand it to me, Puck.”

“Sure thing.” Puck winks at Kurt as he hands it over, which Kurt decides is disconcerting. “And remember, once Kurt’s finished, there’s holiday goodies in the kitchen.”

“Did you put pot in them?”

“No! Geez.” Puck manages to look affronted, but doesn’t mention the pot cupcakes. Speaking of the pot cupcakes, no one received any. Kurt sighs and pulls the tissue paper from the top of his bag.

Oh.

In Kurt’s bag, there are...several items. A Gladware container with at least two cupcakes. A bottle of what Kurt is sure is lube. The wrapper on the next item assures Kurt that the package contains vibrating disposal condom rings, and Kurt can only assume there are a few condoms inside as well. On the top is a simple note.

 _Eat one of the cupcakes and head upstairs to your bedroom, if you want. Bring the bag._

Kurt’s positive that his cheeks are flaming, and he looks up only when he hears Finn’s voice.

“What’s in the bag, bro?”

“Um.” Kurt fishes around desperately. “Condoms!” He waves a package briefly. “And lube!” Again, he waves the bottle around for a moment before depositing it back into the bag.

“Oh!” Finn’s blushing now, too, and seems relieved when Artie and Mike collectively lead the way into the kitchen. Kurt sits still on the floor alone for a minute, listening to the chatter of the others. He tunes out their individual voices, though he does hear most of them saying good-bye to at least one person, and he slowly looks back in the bag.

Pot cupcakes. Condoms, lube, condom rings, and an invitation to come upstairs. Before Kurt can process what, exactly, he’s doing, he’s pulling out the Gladware container and eating one of the cupcakes. There are actually four of them, and Kurt decides at that moment that perhaps he needs to be a little more relaxed. He eats a second one, grabs the bag, and slips away to the stairs, trying to decide if he’s make a mistake or not.

 

Kurt knows who’s on the other side of the door, knows what he’s agreeing to do when he pushes the door open, but somehow he still feels a jolt of surprise when he’s greeted with the sight of Puck’s naked back. Puck has on jeans, slung low on his hips, and they’re low enough for Kurt to confirm that the rumors Puck spreads about himself are true: the boy likes to go commando.

Kurt must make some kind of noise, because Puck turns suddenly and grins. “You might want to close the door,” he says quietly, and Kurt just nods, doing as Puck says. Puck walks over to Kurt and tucks a stray hair behind Kurt’s ear. “You decided to come,” he adds, murmuring, and Kurt can only nod. “Wasn’t sure you would.”

“I wasn’t either,” Kurt says, feeling himself blushing. “Why?”

“‘Cause you’re hot.” Puck grins. “And super-funny, especially if you take the time to listen.” Puck pauses. “I don’t think most people get even half your jokes.”

“No,” Kurt breathes. “They don’t.” The fact that Puck, out of everyone, has seen that, has noticed that, makes something twist in his stomach, though not uncomfortably.

“And I know we should go to dinner or a movie or something first, but the last three Saturday nights Finn’s bailed on us and we ended up playing Xbox and watching movies and sharing popcorn. So those might’ve been dates.”

Kurt tilts his head, considering. It’s true; Puck had come over for movies for several weeks now only to find himself in the house with Kurt and no one else. Kurt had even had the thought at one point that it felt absurdly like a date, when Puck had shifted closer and their hands brushed in the popcorn bowl. He had dismissed the thought, though; what did Kurt know about dates? The only other out gay teenager he had met was off at college, and while he and Blaine had become good friends the year before, there had never been a romantic attraction on either side. Karofsky wasn’t exactly a candidate for a night out together, much less a boyfriend.

 _Boyfriend_. Kurt was getting ahead of himself. Puck hadn’t said anything about being a boyfriend, either. Dates, though, and that was more than a fuck. Kurt hadn’t planned on turning down the fuck even if there’d been no mention of dates.

“That’s true,” he answers slowly. “But you’re forgetting one important thing, I think.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

Kurt shrugs. “Neither of us are girls, either.” Earlier that year, maybe he would have answered differently. It wasn’t that he didn’t like romance; it was more that he was eighteen years old, and his only kisses had come from Brittany and David Karofsky. It was more about the fact that Kurt was, despite his friends and his strange but still awesome family, lonely.

Puck laughs. “Oh, I didn’t forget that.” With that, he leans forward, brushing his lips over Kurt’s, and one hand runs down Kurt’s definitely-not-female chest. Puck pulls away just enough to speak. “I sort of like that, actually.”

Kurt feels like he should stop and ask Puck questions: _when_ and _what_ and _why_ and _how come you never said anything before!_ , but that would ultimately require that he pull away from Puck. Puck’s hand is curled around the back of Kurt’s neck, his mouth strong against Kurt’s more tentative motions, and when Kurt whimpers slightly, Puck takes advantage of Kurt’s distraction to slip his tongue inside Kurt’s mouth.

Stars. That’s what Kurt feels like he should see, the absolutely heady experience of kissing a boy, willingly, one who wants to kiss him–but only if Kurt wants to be kissed–exploring Kurt’s mouth like it’s the most important assignment ever given out by National Geographic.

After a few moments have passed, moments in which Kurt feels alternately like his knees are going to give out and like he could fly for hours under his own power, Kurt slowly begins to reciprocate, his tongue methodically sweeping through Puck’s mouth, his movements deliberate and slow.

Puck maneuvers them towards Kurt’s bed, stopping when they’re beside it and pulling away, his forehead on Kurt’s. “Damn.”

“Is that a good damn?” Kurt can’t help but ask, cursing the insecurity in his voice.

“Fuck, yeah, it’s a good damn,” Puck reassures him. “See?” He takes Kurt’s hand and puts it over his jeans. Kurt’s eyes widen at the hardness he can feel beneath his palm. “Yeah, that’s all you, Peachy.”

“Peachy?” Kurt repeats incredulously.

Puck shrugs. “Just a thought. I mean, maybe you’re a little more acidic than a peach, but I am not calling you Grapefruit.”

“No,” Kurt agrees faintly. “I should think not. Peachy is fine.”

“Good.” Puck beams at him. “Now let’s level the playing field a little.” He starts playing with the hems of Kurt’s many tops, and Kurt suddenly curses his desire to wear his favorite gray shawl-collar cardigan that day. The cardigan had necessitated the blue button down and the thin blue crewneck under that, as well, but now it meant lots of buttons and lots of fabric between the two of them.

Kurt nods. “Yes, we should do that.” He reaches for the buttons on his cardigan, unfastening them hurriedly, then drops his arms as Puck slowly removes it from his shoulders, sliding his hands down Kurt’s arms.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” Puck confesses, his lips close to Kurt’s ear. “Wondering what you’d be wearing today. When I saw you in glee club earlier, I was hoping you wouldn’t change before the party.”

“Really?” Kurt can’t help but respond, pulling back to look at Puck.

“Really,” Puck nods. “It’s like unwrapping a present.”

Kurt laughs. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

“It is.” Puck puts his lips on Kurt’s jaw, kissing softly. “Are you going to hit me, yell at me, or otherwise be upset if you have a mark on this nice neck?”

“Oh.” Kurt exhales softly. “Um.” He has to think about it; again, the answer earlier in the year would have been yes, he would be very upset and angry. Now, though, he’s not sure. “If I get mad, it won’t be at you. I’ll let you know after this time.”

“That means I get more times?” Puck sounds hopeful, his fingers slowly unbuttoning Kurt’s shirt. He’s been careful, more careful than Kurt himself feels like being, and Kurt can’t help but smile.

“It’s definitely a possibility.”

“Awesome.” Puck takes Kurt’s shirt off, then slides his hand under the final layer, Kurt’s breath hitching a little as Puck’s warm hand finally encounter skin. “Fuck, your skin’s so soft. I was totally right on with Peachy.” Puck’s thumb makes a lazy circle to the left of Kurt’s navel. “Let’s get this shirt off, Peachy.”

Kurt lifts his arms obligingly, and once Puck’s tossed Kurt’s (designer, cost seventy dollars even on ebay, and yet Kurt doesn’t care) shirt to the side, Kurt can feel Puck’s lips on his neck and damn, Kurt sees stars. Again. He must whimper or moan or something, because when Puck pulls away yet again, he’s grinning smugly.

“You like that?”

Kurt just nods, then initiates a kiss for the first time, wrapping his arms around Puck’s neck to pull him close and then hold him there. He runs his tongue along Puck’s lower lip, and Puck’s lips part almost like he’s on autopilot. Kurt resists the urge to stop and grin; he has _power_ , just a little, but still. Their bodies rock together, Puck hard against his thigh, and he knows Puck can feel Kurt’s erection against his own thigh. Puck’s hand travels over Kurt’s chest again, tangling in the dark hairs dusting it before brushing over Kurt’s nipples.

Kurt would have said there was no need to bother with his nipples, but Puck proves him wrong, the guitar-string calluses against them making his body arch forward. Puck is making him _feel_ , things he didn’t know he could feel, and Kurt knows at that moment that he’s going to cry and rage if this is the only time he gets with Puck. He needs more times, many more times, to find out what he likes and what Puck likes, and he’s working himself into a bit of a frenzy when he suddenly finds himself twisting in the air, then landing on his back.

“Now, where’s that bag?” Puck asks, grinning, and he leaves for a moment before returning with it. “You sure, Peachy? I can take you out. Buy you some Amish chicken or whatever.”

Kurt grins up at him. “You can still take me out, but I’m sure.”

“All right!” Puck leans down and kisses Kurt again, and Kurt hooks one leg around Puck’s. “Tomorrow night? You busy?”

“I am now.”

“Good answer.”

It doesn’t take Puck long to remove their respective pants and Kurt’s underwear, and Kurt just stares for a long moment. Puck doesn’t crack a joke or laugh; he just returns the heavy gaze, their hands mutually reaching for each other. “Puck.”

“I’m going to make you feel good,” Puck says earnestly.

Kurt nods. “I know.”

And he does. Kurt has heard the stories about Puck, from Santana and Quinn, but they don’t match the boy in his bed, the careful, considerate lover who smiles and laughs and pauses almost too much. They don’t match this Puck, who draws him into his arms and is definitely cuddling with him in a hazy afterglow.

“Kurt! Kurt?”

Kurt frowns at Finn’s voice. “Yes, Finn?” he answers before Finn can get too close to the door. Kurt isn’t sure if he locked the door or not.

“Are you okay? I heard some weird noises. Um. Mike and Artie are staying for Xbox and pizza. The girls went to Rachel’s house, she said to tell you you could come over if you wanted.”

“Okay.” Kurt turns to Puck and grins. “I think I’ll stay in tonight. I have plans tomorrow.”

“Plans?” Finn sounds startled. “You do?”

“Mmmhmm.” Kurt starts to tune Finn out. “Let uh–me know when the pizza’s here?”

“Sure!” With that, Finn’s footsteps recede down the hallway and then the stairs.

“I’m sure you can slip out then if you–”

Puck shakes his head. “We’ll figure it out, Peachy. I don’t expect you to keep something from your step-brother, though.”

“School is a different story,” Kurt can’t help but warn.

“Like I said. We’ll figure it out.” Puck grins. “Now, do you think you’ll be able to help me out with what I said earlier?”

Kurt raises his eyebrows quizzically. “What was that?”

“Using my naughty Santa gift before the end of Hanukkah.”


End file.
